


Release

by hotchoco195



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Quinjet, almost pwp, except angst, too old to waste time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:59:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: Germany to Siberia, with a shitload of baggage.





	Release

 

Steve plugged in the coordinates, eyes flicking every few seconds to the radar screen, certain they were being followed. But the skies stayed clear, and after another ten minutes he relaxed. With the stealth mode engaged they were untraceable, even for Tony.

The blond pushed back from the controls, spinning to look at Bucky. The former assassin was subdued, staring forward blankly. “You okay, Buck?”

He raised his head slightly, though he didn’t meet Steve’s gaze. “Yeah. Couple of scratches, nothin’ major.”

“Can I take a look?”

He looked reluctant for a second before slipping into a business-like expression, unclasping his seatbelt. Bucky stood and stripped off his tac vest, lifting the shirt underneath to show a trio of slashes across his abdomen – claw marks. Steve hissed.

“Goddammit.”

“They look worse than they are,” the brunette said quickly, “They’re not that deep.”

“I still wanna stitch ‘em. You can’t fight with them exposed like that.”

Bucky shrugged but didn’t argue, sitting back down with his hands fisted on the arm rests. Steve rummaged through an equipment locker until he found the first-aid kit, glancing at the controls to make sure everything was still good before crouching between the other man’s legs. He put on a pair of rubber gloves – he was immune to infections but Bucky might not be, depending on how good Zola’s imitation serum was. Steve ripped open an alcohol swab and cleaned the scratches, the sniper stony silent even though it had to sting.

“I’m not hurtin’ ya, am I?”

He gave a wry smile. “You kidding? This is a walk in the park compared to my usual check-ups.”

Steve frowned, concentrating on gingerly dabbing the blood off without reopening the wounds. “It’s a good thing His Highness’ claws are so sharp. It’s a lot easier to close a straight cut.”

“Remind me to send him a thank you card.” Bucky drawled.

“He’s not a bad guy,” the captain sighed, “He thinks you killed his dad. That’s enough to drive anyone crazy.”

“I know. I didn’t do it.”

“I know.”

Satisfied the wounds were as clean as he could make them, Steve tossed the used swabs in a biohazard bag and opened a sterile needle, threading it with shaky hands. Bucky slid his hips forward obligingly, keeping his shirt raised, and Steve rested one hand on his stomach.

“Do you need something for the pain?”

“Just get on with it, Rogers.”

The blond pushed the tip of the needle through and Bucky stiffened, but he didn’t make a sound and he didn’t shove Steve away. He finished the first suture, gradually tugging the two sides of the cut together, and started on the next one.

“I wasn’t sure we were gonna make it out of there.”

“We probably wouldn’t have if your pal Natasha hadn’t switched sides. Why’d she do it?” Bucky frowned.

“Nat does things for her own reasons, and I gave up tryin’ to figure them out a long time ago. I’m just glad she did it.”

The brunette nodded, resting his head back against the seat. “Your team’s good.”

“I don’t think they’re my team anymore.” Steve clenched his jaw.

“Sorry.”

He looked up. “It wasn’t your fault, Buck. We fell apart as soon as Ross threw those damn Accords at us.”

“I’m surprised Stark signed them, after he fought so hard to keep the government’s hands off his suits.”

Steve sighed, frowning at his thread as he drew it through the skin. “It’s even more surprising he’d let a guy like Ross take over after what he did to Bruce. But Tony and Pepper are having some issues and I think…I think he’s starting to doubt himself again. When he got back from Afghanistan he had a lot of questions about Stark Industries’ involvement in the arms business, and Iron Man was his escape from that – an attempt to make amends. But now people have been getting hurt because of the things the Avengers do, and it’s tainted the one thing he had to be proud of.”

“You can’t save everyone.”

Steve curled his lip. “We had the war to teach us that. Tony’s used to this culture of the perfect victory, where you can kill anyone from half a world away with one tiny drone and no collateral damage. He takes every life lost as a personal failure.”

“Still doesn’t make sense he’d sign the Accords. Is knowing there’s someone waiting back at base to rap you over the knuckles gonna change how you act in the moment? Stark’s just looking for someone else to shoulder the guilt if people get killed.”

“Can you blame him?” Steve said quietly, moving to the next scratch.

“I’m not sure. It’s been a long time since I’ve had choices to feel guilty about. Hard to remember how it feels.”

“It sucks.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Steve finished stitching him up, being as gentle as possible. Once all three cuts were closed, he stripped off his dirty gloves and put on clean ones, grabbing a bandage.

“Sit up for me.”

Bucky straightened so Steve could reach behind him. He snipped off a length of cotton and wadded it up, laying it over the scratches. Then he wrapped the rest around Bucky’s waist, securing the pad in place and pinning the dressing tight.

“How’s it feel?”

The brunette twisted his torso from side to side with a grimace. “It’s good work. Thanks.”

“What were you doin’ getting yourself sliced up anyway, huh? I taught you better than that.” Steve snickered.

“You didn’t teach me shit, Rogers,” Bucky smirked, “You couldn’t fight worth a damn when we met.”

“Didn’t stop me trying.”

“Nah, you’re too big of an idiot to know when you’re beat.”

Steve stripped off his gloves, smile wavering. He placed his hand softly over Bucky’s bandages, eyes locked on the other man’s. “I’m smart enough to know how close we came back there. I’m scared, Buck. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I’m pretty hard to kill.” He shrugged, hyper-aware of Steve’s fingertips resting on his stomach. The blond’s touch was light, but Bucky felt pinned in place.

“You’re not invincible.” The captain muttered, eyes on the other man’s chest with an expression Bucky didn’t recognise.

“We’ve both done alright, haven’t we? Made it through the war, made it this far in one piece,” he held up his metal arm with a wry smile, “Well, mostly one piece.”

Steve made a short sound that might have been a sob and surged upwards, a hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he pressed his lips to the brunette’s. He was too stunned to react, decades of training and enhanced reflexes and instinct vanishing as he held himself stiff in the chair, unsure what he felt in the maelstrom of thoughts rushing around his head. Steve shuffled his knees closer so he could lean into the kiss, and Bucky finally pressed a hand to his chest, gently pulling back.

“What the hell, Stevie?”

His face fell, rocking back on his heels. “Oh god, I’m sorry Buck, I just- I got carried away.”

He tried to stand but the sniper grabbed his wrist, forcing the other man to meet his gaze. “I’m not upset about it. More confused. What about Agent Carter?”

Steve’s expression darkened. “Peggy’s gone.”

“I meant the other one. The girl you kissed.”

“I like Sharon. She’s a good person, better than most in this business. But she’s not…” he trailed off lamely, “She’s not you.”

“And that…matters to you?” he ventured, voice stilted and hollow as it bounced back at him off the metal curves of the jet.

“Uh, yeah.” The blond scratched the back of his head.

Bucky thought about it, processing the words with the slow care he preferred these days. He thought about Steve, the other man watching him silently, body poised to run. He thought about himself, and how long it had been since he’d let anyone that close, and how it felt to fight beside his best friend again and finally remember words like _trust_ and _team_.

“I’m not the guy I used to be,” he said, even though they both already knew it, “I’ve done things.”

“I don’t care.” Steve’s jaw tightened, the statement ringing with that stubborn golden resolve he’d had since they were kids, the words shimmering with unshakeable truth.

Bucky weighed him up a moment longer, eyes dark and thoughtful as his body rushed his mind towards a decision he’d already made – hell, made long ago if he thought about it, before the Potomac, before the train, before the war.

“Guess it’s always been us, kid.”

 

Watching Steve’s face brighten hurt in the best way, searing Bucky’s heart as the stress disappeared from the captain’s smile. He reached for the brunette and the other man met him halfway, right arm slipping around Steve’s waist as he closed the space between them. The suddenness of the move threw Steve off balance and they fell backwards, the blond landing hard on his shoulders as their lips collided. Bucky tried to break away to apologise but strong hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place, and he decided Steve would get over it – it wasn’t like he was breakable.

The two soldiers battled, mouths wet and demanding. Bucky’s hand roamed down Steve’s ribs, the blond’s body solid and warm under him as their legs tangled together. He raised his left hand to Steve’s neck unthinkingly and jerked it away, pulling back like a startled deer. His eyes searched the captain’s for any sign of revulsion or fear. The other man was frowning, and Bucky started to sit up.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.

He couldn’t say it, gaze dropping to the shining silver fingers fisted against his leg. Steve looked down and his brows quirked, lips pursing unhappily for a second before his face smoothed out. He gently took Bucky’s wrist, raising the metal hand until he could press a soft kiss to the palm.

“Can you feel that?”

Bucky shivered, nodding slowly. Steve did it again, kissing his way up to the fingertips. His eyes locked with Bucky’s as he closed his lips around one finger, sliding down to the base and back again, leaving a wet sheen on the prosthetic.

“It doesn’t bother you?” the brunette asked quietly.

“It’s part of you.” He shrugged, entwining their fingers with a light squeeze.

“Not really.” He huffed.

“Maybe not at first, but you’ve taken it back,” Steve said, calm and steady, “You’re taking it all back, bit by bit.”

He sat up, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s torso as he kissed the sniper’s neck.

“Nothing about you bothers me.”

Bucky’s gaze darted to the cockpit. “How much time have we got?”

“Enough.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “Better not waste it then.”

He took Steve’s face in both hands and kissed him, lips parting slightly to let the other man in. Everything was strange: kissing someone with short hair, being held like he was precious, the deep murmurs rising from Steve’s throat that died against his lips. In all his years of memories, he had no frame of reference for this – Steve wasn’t like a dame, even without considering the anatomical differences. He was _Steve_ , the only person who could penetrate the HYDRA fog and bring Bucky back to himself, the only person who’d tried to protect him, even when Bucky didn’t need it.

“Tell me if I’m hurtin’ ya, okay?” the blond whispered.

Bucky frowned; he’d forgotten about his wound. He glanced down but it still seemed okay, the dressing tight over the dull ache of the scratches. “I heal fast.”

“Doesn’t mean it don’t _hurt_ , you jackass.” Steve smiled.

He snickered. “Is that your idea of sweet talk? No wonder you always struck out.”

His eyes narrowed, smile suddenly menacing, and Bucky’s brain was just recognising the danger when Steve attacked. The captain rolled them so he was on top, weight holding the brunette down as he tickled Bucky mercilessly. He laughed, more from the surprise and the ridiculousness than anything, squirming under Steve’s questing fingers. And then he was ripping at the buckles on Steve’s harness, and the blond was shoving his shirt up, and they were struggling to keep their lips together as they fought to get out of their uniforms.

“How the hell does this thing come off?” Bucky swore, yanking at Steve’s shirt.

“You gotta – here – can you lift your?-”

With a mess of grunts and giggles and kisses they finally got everything off, Bucky throwing Steve’s tights across the jet with almost spiteful glee. The brunette scanned his body, noting the new scars, the old freckles, the muscles that were still a bit of a shock after so long of thinking as Steve as his little pal. Steve was doing the same, regarding Bucky with his artist’s gaze. He examined the scarring around the brunette’s shoulder but didn’t say anything, simply moving on to the next patch of skin.

 

When they both seemed satisfied, Bucky reached up and dragged his face down, chests pressed together. He tilted Steve’s head so he could reach the other man’s neck, exploring the softness there with his mouth, trailing up to his ear and along his jaw. He could feel Steve hard against his thigh, and he knew his own erection was just as obvious. It felt good; he might be exposed and vulnerable, but so was Steve. They had each other, just like it used to be.

“You saved me, Stevie. Again.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well you saved my ass a whole lot, so I think we’ve still got a ways to go before we’re even.”

Bucky grinned. “I could use a break from near-death experiences for a while.”

Steve laughed, face as bright as the first sunrise, and Bucky joined in, both of them pushing away thoughts of their unknown dark destination. Steve kissed him and the brunette cupped a hand against the back of his head hungrily, arms flexing as he pulled the captain close. The blond squirmed a hand between them, running his palm over Bucky’s ribs and hip, carefully avoiding the bandages until he reached the other man’s thigh. He gasped, biting off a shudder.

“Uh, it’s been- well, I guess you know how long it’s been-”

Steve silenced him with a kiss. “I got ya.”

Bucky relaxed back against the floor, fingers roaming nervously over Steve’s shoulders as the soldier shifted his weight. Blue eyes held him, pinned him down like manacles, as a strong calloused hand wrapped around his shaft. Bucky ground his teeth, eyelids fluttering. Steve gave an experimental stroke, his gaze never leaving the other man’s face. He tried again and the brunette moaned, rolling his hips up into the touch.

“Jesus, Buck.”

“What?” he frowned.

Steve shook his head. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

He cut off the answering snicker with another kiss and a quick jerk that had Bucky clenching his metal fist in a reminder to be careful. He knew the damage it could do; he couldn’t get carried away. Never carried away, always the good soldier, always following orders – it was sort of odd and sort of funny that everyone thought Steve was so obedient when he’d always been the one who defied authority, when it was Steve who’d flown over enemy lines and burned HYDRA down to save his best friend. Bucky chuckled internally. It would have been pretty stupid if it hadn’t worked.

He reluctantly dragged himself back to the present. It was something he’d been getting better at lately, but he was worried if he paid too much attention now things would be over before they even got started, and he didn’t want this to end. Bucky wanted to see that look on Steve’s face always, wanted to drink in the sheer wonder burning down at him like holy fire, like sunlight at the end of winter that carries the first hope for spring. He felt safe in Steve’s strong hands, one clasped gently on his good shoulder while the other ran down his length in firm, even strokes. It had been so long since anyone had touched him, had looked at him with anything but fear or contempt or sorrow.

 

“Stevie,” he gasped out, “I’m not gonna make it.”

“So let go, Buck. It’s okay.”

He tipped his head back, eyes rolling shut as he let himself drown in the wave of sensations, the silky feel of Steve’s fingers and the sharp spikes of pleasure up his spine. He was so hot, muscles tense and shaking like his body wanted to run. He’d worked so hard to pull himself back together, to retake control of his own mind, his own limbs, and now parts of him that had been dormant for a lifetime were roaring back to life. The only thing keeping him from completely losing it was the hand pinning him solidly to the floor of the quinjet.

“I gotcha,” Steve murmured, lips dancing along his jaw, “I gotcha, Buck.”

Bucky groaned, digging metal fingers into the captain’s flesh as he squeezed Steve’s arm, afraid to fall over the edge. His eyes locked onto the blond’s as he tried to mouth words that wouldn’t come.

“So fucking gorgeous, Buck. Do you know that? So perfect. My perfect James, always so smart, so tough-”

The brunette’s face screwed up as his thighs spasmed, hips thrusting into Steve’s grip without thinking. His breath caught in his throat, eyes clenched shut – and his walls finally gave, his climax wrenched out of him with a cry. There was a clang of metal on metal as he jerked, legs pressed against Steve’s, the captain’s touch gentle as it petered off. He rode out the last of the shudders, flopping back as his muscles turned limp.

Bucky let the soft, warm haze fall over him, focusing on each breath as he filled his lungs over and over, chest heaving. Fingertips traced a circle on his abdomen but he didn’t open his eyes; they trailed up to his collarbone, dancing over his heart, and he rolled towards the touch, managing to peel the lids apart enough to squint at Steve.

“You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

The blond chuckled. “You always this charming after?”

Bucky laughed, groaning as he shifted to face the other man. “Sorry. Old habit.”

“I get it,” Steve tickled the skin behind his ear, “Make light of the situation. Easier to fob me off in the morning.”

Bucky growled, throwing an arm over his waist and tugging the captain flush against him. “Not this time. You’re not getting rid of me now, Stevie.”

“You gonna hold onto me 24/7?”

“If I have to.”

“Might make it hard to get around.”

“It’s the only way to keep you out of trouble.”

 

The blond snorted, the sound cut off abruptly as Bucky raised a shining silver hand to cup his face.

“Seriously though…thank you. That was…” he shook his head.

Steve kissed his forehead, holding him close. Bucky let him; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to take simple comfort in a hug, or a kiss, or a lover. Steve was so much more than an old friend. He was the family Bucky had lost so long ago. He was everything.

He needed to tell him, but the Bucky who always knew what to say died at the bottom of an icy crevasse, and all he had left was the Bucky who shaped the world with his hands.

The brunette pushed Steve flat on his back, straddling his thighs. He wrapped a hand around the other man’s erection, the captain hissing at the contact. Bucky hesitantly slid his fist over the tip, still a little worried he might hurt Steve but mostly embarrassed he wasn’t sure what to do. He gave a couple more strokes, grip tightening in response to the blond’s groans, watching for every twitch or change in expression. He spat on his hand and sped up, Steve’s shoulders rocking against the floor as he squirmed.

“Oh, Buck!”

Bucky leaned down and kissed him softly, lips barely touching as his hair fell around his face. His free hand reached out to grab Steve’s, guiding it between his legs. The blond gasped as Bucky pressed their joined fingers against his entrance, the captain half-sitting up so he could see the sniper’s face.

“Buck, we don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he set his jaw, enjoying the way the words felt in his mouth, “I’m just not sure how.”

“Well I’m no expert either.”

“I trust you.”

“We can wait,” Steve panted, “There’ll be other times-”

“You can’t promise that.”

They stared each other down, but Bucky knew he was right, and he knew Steve knew it too. After a moment the blond sighed, looking away.

“We’re not exactly armed for that kind of mission.”

“Med kit?”

“Nothing.”

“Just have to make the most of what we’ve got then. Like the old days.”

Steve gave a wry smile. “Not quite.”

 

Bucky raised Steve’s hand to his mouth, running his tongue over the digits to get them as slippery as possible. The blond whimpered and he curled his lip, making sure to meet Steve’s eye as he closed his lips around the other man’s pinky and sucked.

“Jesus.”

Steve drew his hand back and wormed it between them, Bucky tensing slightly as inquisitive fingers swirled over the tight ring of muscle. There was a second of pressure as Steve probed his entrance but the blond pulled back, massaging and caressing as he squeezed Bucky’s hip with the other hand. The brunette decided to let him take charge, concentrating instead on the painfully hard shaft in his hand. He varied his strokes, playing with speed and strength and angle to see which made Steve wriggle the most. He was aware of warmth and pressure as he was stretched out, but it wasn’t as important as the pearly pre-cum on Steve’s head, or the way his neck tensed as Bucky ran his nose over his jugular.

Hands nudged and prodded, encouraging him to shuffle forward, and then Steve’s hand was spread against his lower back as he lined himself up.

“Ready?” he blinked up at the sniper.

Bucky smirked. “I think you’ll explode if we stop now.”

“I could deal.”

“I want you, Stevie.”

He nodded grimly, slowly raising his hips as he guided Bucky down. The brunette ground his teeth as his passage stretched to let Steve in, fighting to relax as the captain inched them closer and closer together. Finally he was sunk to the hilt, thighs warm against each other as Bucky took a couple of deep breaths.

“You okay?”

“Gimme a second.”

“Take your time.” Steve brushed a thumb over his wrist, hands sliding back to cup Bucky’s ass supportively.

The brunette shook out his shoulders, letting himself adjust. It was certainly different, but it wasn’t bad; he felt full in a way that seemed right, and the look on Steve’s face when he shifted his weight only enhanced it. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s back, kissing his shoulder.

“You sure about this?”

“Stop trying to wrap me in cotton wool, Rogers. I ain’t gonna break.”

 

His lip curled into a half-smile, and then Bucky slowly lifted himself and the captain groaned, mouth falling open as the sniper slid back down. He rocked a little faster, getting used to the angle of Steve moving inside him, the friction. Each time it got a little easier as Bucky’s muscles warmed up, his body becoming less rigid until he was rolling his hips with a slow, sinuous motion. He gave an experimental flick and Steve swore, fisting a hand in his hair. Bucky grinned and did it again, the captain’s eyelids fluttering. He didn’t close them though, gaze still piercing into the brunette’s as he sped up.

Bucky’s hands roamed over golden skin, chasing Steve’s pulse as it skipped, feeling the tension underneath that solid chest. Steve’s head brushed against his walls in a way that seemed to scratch his itches as soon as they appeared. There was no more hesitation as he threw himself onto the other man, thighs burning as he pushed battle-worn muscles to breaking point. The friction was good but Bucky knew it could be better; he shifted and tilted by half degrees, searching for the perfect spot.

“Yes, baby,” Steve gasped, squeezing his ass, “That’s it!”

Bucky snapped his hips with a growl that turned into a laugh, pushing the hair back out of his face as he bobbed up and down. He leaned forward and gave a yelp as Steve pressed hard against his prostate, a twitch spreading through him from thighs to neck.

“Buck?” he frowned, suddenly concerned.

The sniper did it again, crying out as his fingers and toes clenched, and Steve’s face lit up with recognition.

“Oh fuck.”

Bucky flung himself at the other man and Steve arched up to meet him, grip closing tight on the brunette’s waist as he thrust desperately. He looked so unlike the upstanding Captain America with his cheeks flushed and his hair askew, so much more like the little guy he’d pulled out of so many fights with his mouth bloodied and his knuckles bruised. Bucky felt a swell of pride – this was _his_ Steve, the one that didn’t belong to pop culture or history or social media. And he was staring up at Bucky like he was a saint, instead of the murderous headcase he was, and something in his expression almost convinced the brunette it was true.

“Hold onto me.” He groaned out.

“Always,” Steve smiled, “I gotcha, Buck.”

 

Bucky wasn’t young, and the last half hour had been pretty confronting, all things considered. As good as it felt every time he plunged down onto Steve’s insistent dick, he could tell he wasn’t going to get within spitting distance of the edge; his brain had had enough. But the blond was coming apart like an automaton rattling at the hinges, his hands running up and down Bucky’s ribs as he bit his lip. With a mischievous grin Bucky nipped it as well, chuckling deep in his throat as Steve whined. He drove himself down faster, human hand clenched in Steve’s hair as he pressed their chests together, letting his weight hold the other man still as Bucky rode him hard. He tried to sit up, body jolting as he yelled.

“Jesus Christ, oh shit! Buck!”

He gave a groan that came from somewhere in the pit of his stomach and stilled, eyes fluttering as he poured himself into the brunette. Bucky rumbled appreciatively, drinking in Steve’s slack-mouthed expression as he slowed, feeling the heat radiate between them. Finally he stopped, gasping for breath. Steve was still staring at the ceiling, looking as worn out as Bucky had ever seen him, hands flopped helplessly against the floor above his head. The brunette let himself collapse against his chest, steely arms wrapping around him.

They were quiet, too tired to speak, which was probably for the best since Bucky had no idea what to say. After a few minutes his knees started to notice how cold and unforgiving the floor was, and he lifted himself off Steve, ignoring the blond’s moan of protest. Bucky rolled onto his side and the captain followed, tugging him back into a firm embrace.

Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder at the clouds streaming past the windshield. On any other day he might have cracked a bad joke about joining the Mile High Club, and Steve might have made some comeback about getting lucky around planes, but neither of them did.

“How much longer, do ya think?”

The blond shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Not really.”

“Then shut up and stop spoiling my afterglow.” Steve smirked, poking him in the side.

“What, no pillow talk? I should have known you only wanted me for my looks.”

He laughed, burying his face in Bucky’s neck. “I love you, idiot.”

“Yeah,” he gave a wry smile, “How’d I manage that?”

“By being you.”

Bucky trailed his hand along the blond’s spine, listening to their heartbeats steady as the engines whirred in the background, carrying them towards darkness.


End file.
